Paint Me a Picture
by Meowser Clancy
Summary: Thing was, she hadn't picked up a pencil, let alone a paintbrush, since her sister died. But now that she'd joined the BAU, her fingers wouldn't stop moving. AU. Femslash.
Kate Callahan was shocked when she first felt her fingers twitch, assuming a position they hadn't been in for years.

She sat on the airplane, surrounded by new colleagues, tablet in front of her.

And suddenly she was rifling through her bag for paper, feeling a restless itch for the first time in thirteen years.

"Did you lose something?" Hotch finally asked, and she straightened, realizing that the team was staring at her, and that maybe that wasn't the first time Hotch had spoken to her.

"I thought I did," she admitted. "But I guess not." For the rest of the flight, her fingers itched for a pencil, wanting to grab hold of something and draw.

Everything around her, from the planes of Hotch's faces, to the taut muscles of Derek Morgan's arms, were just begging to be drawn, put on paper, brought to life.

Reid's long fingers, tapping a pen to his lips, would be so easy to draw. She could feel it, the intoxicating joy of being an artist again.

Rossi, across from her, was hunched over his tablet now, studying some pictures of the crime scene.

And then there was JJ, on Kate's other side. Her thigh pressed against Kate's and Kate felt a little shiver creep up her spine at how close JJ was to her.

There was no doubt about it. It wasn't just this job that had made her want to paint again. It was the woman beside her.

Kate hadn't used to be gay. And she still wouldn't really label herself as such. It was individual women, not women as a whole. She'd had so many crushes over the years, from friends, to particularly good teachers, to actresses on the TV who took her breath away. Women weren't really an interest, per se. They were a hobby.

Newly single, Kate looked down at her hands, spreading the fingers where a ring used to rest. Who knew. Who knew that Chris would leave, out of the blue. She supposed she didn't blame him. At a certain point, they stopped meeting each other halfway, and the rest was history. He found a cute little blonde to fall in love with him and Kate could almost respect that. God knew she had no real feelings for him anymore.

She looked around herself, realizing anew that she was in good company. Hotch and Rossi were divorced, that she knew.

And JJ...well, one could hope. In the short time Kate had been on the team, she'd profiled nothing but marital dissatisfaction from JJ.

Kate laughed at herself. Someone who wouldn't even admit that they were gay was already making plans for when a female colleague broke up with her husband.

There was no doubt about it. She had fallen hard.

The team fell silent, each going back into their own world as the plane got closer to earth.

Kate dared to look in her bag again, finally reaching over JJ (a move that made her feel daring) and asking Reid if he had any.

"Yeah," he said, handing a pad to her.

"And a pencil?" She questioned.

He gave her the one he'd been playing with, not asking questions.

And then Kate began to draw. Her fingers were finally satisfied, she almost felt that she heard them emit a sigh of happiness at being at long last reunited with a tool of art.

Her fingers moved over the page, sketching the tattoo barely present from under Morgan's t-shirt. She was barely even looking up for reference; she'd been wanting this so long that she'd already gotten it memorized.

She felt the team's eyes on her, but couldn't afford to respond and lose the moment, already changing to a quick sketch of Rossi. His face appeared under her pencil, a bit worried in the forehead, but calm otherwise.

Hotch was next, and she drew a profile shot of him, getting his shoulder just right.

And Reid's hands, now silent on his legs. Her own hands flew over the paper, capturing them perfectly.

There. Done.

She looked up in triumph, feeling breathless, only to have her pad snatched from her by Rossi. "So our little undercover agent is also an artist," he said. "These are incredible, Kate. Look, Morgan, at how well she got your tattoo."

Kate didn't reach to take the pad back; she wasn't ashamed. A little embarrassed, maybe, but she'd let the pieces fall where they may.

"That was the first time I've drawn since my sister died," she said suddenly, honestly. "I don't know what brought it on. You guys, I guess. You inspire me."

Now she was embarrassed. She felt the eyes of the team again on her. JJ took the pad from Reid, flipping through the pages.

"You didn't draw me," she said, surprise and maybe something else in her voice.

"Next time," Kate said, having no idea what she was promising. "We're about to land. I didn't have time."

"I might hold you to that," JJ murmured, lingering over the picture of Rossi, and the perfect lines in his face.

* * *

At the hotel, she and JJ ended up in the same room. They'd arrived late, with a late start, and Hotch had sent everyone but himself ahead to the hotel. "If we all get a good night's sleep, that'll make everything easier tomorrow," he'd ordered.

There hadn't been time to make reservations and the team had agreed on the way over that there was no reason to get the hotel to prepare six rooms when three would do just as well, at least for tonight.

Kate had taken the pad of paper from the room's desk and was now lying on her stomach on the bed, trying to draw JJ.

JJ was on the phone, in the midst of a quiet conversation with Henry.

Kate wasn't eavesdropping but couldn't help overhear some of the words.

They helped strengthen her profile that JJ and Will were having trouble.

And so was Kate.

She frowned down at the sample in her hands; it didn't look like JJ at all. The lines of her face seemed correct, but there was something missing.

She tried again, as the conversation continued. She got JJ's hair, her long limbs, her strong arms, but she could not get her face.

JJ hung up and smiled at her. "Trying to draw me?" She teased. "You should have asked first."

"Sorry," Kate said.

"I'm joking," JJ assured her, taking the pad. "Wow, Kate. These are good."

"I wasn't satisfied with them," Kate admitted.

"Why not?" JJ glanced at herself in the mirror, comparing it to the image on the paper in her hand. "It's like a photograph, Kate. This is amazing."

Kate shrugged, moving under the covers of her bed. "Maybe I'll try again tomorrow," she said.

"Can I keep these?" JJ asked.

"Sure," Kate said, wanting to feel pleased that JJ liked them so much. But she was unsatisfied with how they'd turned out that she couldn't be glad that JJ was keeping them.


End file.
